Из альбома: Emerald City
There’s a guy from the Sun Tribune
Staking out my house in a Chevy Impala
Since yesterday noon
Should i speak to him
Or just stay quiet
They hear the whistle blow
And out pours the blood of my child
Tablespoon of codeine
Put you right to bed
Don’t want anymore codeine
Wanted to make it On my own tonight
My own tonight
So I said some things
That can’t be said
About a ritual tower that
Uses of more american dead
And what happened in September
Was a fake
But they’re chasing demoltion
Or remote control planes
Tablespoon of codeine
Put you right to bed
Don’t want anymore codeine
Wanted to make it On my own tonight
My own tonight
Whatever you do You have to commit
And whatever you do You have to put your blood into it So i said some things
That can’t be said
From the FAA
The empty desk of Alan Armistead
Tablespoon of codeine
Put you right to bed
Don’t want anymore codeine
Wanted to make it On my own tonight
My own tonight